Child's Blood
by Sasswolf-Hale
Summary: "Father, why does she watch me so?" "Because she is from my past, child. She watches me, not you, my dear." A young girl raised within the walls of the Opera Populaire, a father not by blood, and a secret to shake the world of the opera house. AU/OC
1. Offering

**Hello all! Vixxy here with yet another new story. Unlike how I was intending, I am posting this story as I write it. I do hope you will enjoy it. Have fun! And remember, REVIEWS = LOVE!**

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The young woman stood before the stairwell she knew all too well, staring at the young man whose face was half hidden by a white mask.

"Are you sure?" the male asked.

"It is the least I can do after what I did to you. Please. Raoul will never know. Take her. Raise her as your own, just vow to me that you will not let your view of people meld into her view."

The man could do little but stare at the young woman, then at the small bundle held within her arms against her bosom. Could he truly care for a child? He returned his gaze to the woman's face, and then gave a kind smile, the first he'd shown in his life. "Of course, Christine. Madame Giry and I will raise her." He answered. "What is her name?"

Christine watched as Erik stepped forward to take the child from her. "Amariana de Chagny." She replied. "Please raise her well. I feel she has a talent only this opera house can give her."

"Yet your husband will not let her near the walls if you were to tell him this."

"I was lucky that he is away on business. I can say that I lost the baby. She deserves to have the prosperous career that I could not, Erik."

Erik's eyes darted from the child's sleeping face to Christine's. Madame Giry must have told her his true name. "I preferred Angel of Music from you, Christine."

"Seeing as I can no longer pursue music, I can no longer refer to you as that." Christine answered. "Do take care of her. Promise me no harm will befall her."

Erik nodded in understanding. "I wish you happiness, Christine," he murmured as she turned away from him to start back up the stairs again. He looked down to the sleeping form in his arms and tilted his head, raising a hand to gently stroke his fingers along the baby's cheek. Her hair was ebony and her skin pale but fair, much like her mother.

Christine paused as Erik wished her happiness. "And I pray Amariana can bring you happiness in my stead." She whispered before continuing up the stairs to the surface.

Erik stared at the child, watching the young girl sleep peacefully in his arms. "A child to care for…" he whispered before turning and disappearing into the catacombs of the opera house, the small child in his arms.


	2. Swan Lake

**Heya everyone! Vixxy here with chapter two! Hope you guys enjoy it! And remember! Reviews = LOVE!**

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-Six years later, 1881-

Crystalline blue eyes watched the opera from Box Five, a solitary figure in a navy gown. The bodice of the gown was laced with white, while the sleeves clung to her elbows before flaring out in a great arc. A single white rose sat in her lap as she watched the soprano on stage, refraining a grimace. The woman, La Carlotta as the world knew her, made a fool of herself on stage every performance. Yet the crowd loved her because they knew no better. She huffed indignantly as she listened to an aria she knew she could sing in perfection come ragged and shameful from the old woman's mouth. "Such a fool she is, attempting to cling to her youth."

"Hush now, Amariana," a familiar voice scolded from the shadows. The young girl smiled as a familiar form stood close to her.

"I was wondering if you would show tonight, father." The girl said, smiling fondly. "Will I be on that stage one day, father?"

"One day soon, my dear," Erik promised from the shadows. He kept his eyes on his daughter; he tried not to think of the beautiful 6 year old as an offering. That may have been what Christine had seen her as, but Amariana was Erik's life. He had yet to interfere with the Opera Populaire since Christine had married Raoul. Most of that had been due to Amariana. He fell silent as he thought back on when Christine had brought Amariana to him. The woman's words echoed in his head over and over sometimes: _"I pray Amariana can bring you happiness in my stead." _Amariana did not replace the hole from Christine, but she made the pain almost nonexistent. He was grateful for that, above all else.

Amariana was grateful when Carlotta left the stage to be replaced by the character Odette, the real star of the play. She knew the girl playing the fair, cursed princess was Meg Giry, Madame Giry's daughter. She thought of Meg as a sister, and she was happy that Meg was getting a lead role. "Father, have you seen this opera before?"

Erik's attention was brought back to the present at his daughter's question. "No, child. I have heard that it is an adaption from a Russian ballet." He explained. "What is it about?"

"A young princess who is cursed by a sorcerer because he wants her father's kingdom." Amariana answered quickly, her eyes shining as Meg sang beautifully on the stage. "She wishes to be found by her true love, a prince she grew up with." She sat back in her chair as she watched the blonde ballerina perform. "I must say I enjoy Meg Giry as our lead star," she commented, glancing at her father, who stood in the shadows beside her.

"She has a great talent, but none as fair as yours, daughter." Erik answered, a smile in his voice. He'd been smiling a lot since Amariana was given to him. He watched the young six year olds eyes stare in awe as the blonde ballerina danced her solo. His eyes repeatedly glanced towards the manager's box, narrowing his eyes at the managers Firmin and Andre. For the most part, however, he kept his gaze loving and on his daughter. As the play came to a close, young Amariana stood and applauded happily. She turned her eyes to her father questioningly.

"Father, may I speak to Madame Giry?" she inquired. "I want to congratulate Meg on her amazing performance."

"So long as you are home by the evening bells, it is alright." Erik answered, reaching out to take his daughter's hand and lead her from their box. He released the young girl's hand the second it was safe and watched her dart off towards the dressing room. He gave a small smile as the image of his daughter gunning for the room vanished among the crowd.

Amariana scurried as fast as her legs would carry her to the dressing room. "Madame Giry! Madame Giry!" she called out, soon coming upon the woman.

"Ah, hello my dear." The woman greeted in a thick French accent. "I trust you are here to see my daughter."

"Yes, Madame," Amariana said excitedly, practically bouncing. Her navy skirts fluttered as she bounced on her feet, grinning happily. "I want to see Meg!"

"Very well, my dear," Madame Giry replied before opening the door. "Meg, darling?"

"Yes, mama?" Meg asked, turning. She gasped as she laid eyes on Amariana. "Amari! You attended!"

"It was lovely, Meg!" Amariana chimed, scurrying to the older girl's side and hugging her. "You were fantastic on stage tonight!"

"Why thank you, darling." Meg answered, smiling as she hugged the child. "I was nervous, though."

"Pish-posh!" Amariana said, grinning. "You were wonderful! Even father thought so!" She smiled brightly at the mention of Erik, then blinked. "Oh, but I must return home before the evening bells. I will see you both tomorrow, yes?"

"Of course, Amari." Meg replied. "We shall see you then, dearest."

Amariana curtsied as if she were a princess, then smiled as she took her leave. She returned moments later to give the white rose to Meg, kissing the white petals before handing the flower to the play's star. Her gift given, she turned and vanished down the halls of the opera house, her movements seeming more like a dance.


	3. Mother, Daughter

**Vixxy here with the next installment for Child's Blood! Hope you guys enjoy! And remember! REVIEWS = LOVE!**

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-Two years later, 1883-

Amariana watched the play once more, the show being a success since the year the Opera Populaire had first performed it. Only this time, it was far more beautiful as Carlotta had finally quit the opera life. Not because of death, but because her voice had permanently given out. So the young woman who now replaced Carlotta's role, a fair skinned girl with fiery red hair, sang inspiringly at the audience before exiting to allow Meg onstage once more. Amariana was so happy to see the young woman performing a lead role again, that she smiled brightly. "Father?" she inquired of the shadows behind her.

"Yes, Amariana, dear?" Erik answered.

"Is she not better than before?" the girl glanced back over her shoulder at the half-masked face, her smile curving her full pink lips as she returned her gaze to the dancing blonde.

"She has improved greatly, my dear." Erik answered. His eyes watched Amariana tenderly, before he glanced to the manager's box and had to refrain a gasp. For sitting among the managers Firmin and Andre, was Christine de Chagny, along with her skeptical looking husband. Why were they here, at the very place the male of the couple had vowed to never return? Then it dawned on him: Meg or Madame Giry must have written to Christine about the performance this time around. Knowing Christine, she would have begged Raoul to let her come until he'd agreed. Erik could almost hear the condition as Raoul must have spoke:

"_To insure that you're not taken, I must accompany you."_

Erik scoffed silently at the mere thought. He had no intention of taking Christine, not after the beautiful gift she'd given him. He kept his eyes on the former star before Amariana gasped.

"Father, look!" she said, pointing towards the very spot Erik had been watching. He looked more carefully at the box only to find that while Raoul, Firmin and Andre were conversing quietly, Christine's eyes were fixated on the young girl sitting in the light of the box. "Father, why does she watch me so?"

"Because she is from my past, child. She watches me, not you, my dear." Erik answered.

Amariana tilted her head, almost seeming like a cat as she did so, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. "But she seems to be looking at me, Father." She replied, her tone confused.

"She must be mistaking you for someone else."

Amariana looked up at Erik as the play ended. "Perhaps her own daughter?"

"Perhaps," Erik answered, nodding once, unable to confess that the beautiful woman staring at his daughter was the girl's birthmother. Not just yet. "That woman is Christine de Chagny," he explained, watching his child.

"The Viscountess?" Amariana said, her eyes gleaming.

"Yes, my dear," Erik replied. "Come, we should practice your solo piece."

"Yes, father," Amariana said, hopping down from the chair and following Erik through the after party and into a large cavernous looking music room, where a grand piano stood majestically under a sky light. The moon shimmered off the ebony and ivory keys in an unsung song. A song Amariana knew she could play. She skipped over to the bench, her dress shoes tapping quietly on the marble floor. Her emerald skirts shuffled almost noiselessly as she practically danced to the glorious instrument. She sat on the bench like she'd been made for it, and her fingers fell on the keys in a beautiful ballad.

As for Christine de Chagny, she had yet to recover from seeing the girl in box five. The box that was Erik's – which meant that the young girl was her Amariana. Christine felt tears burn her eyes. How had Erik treated her over these last eight years? Christine remembered the look on the child's face when she'd noticed her in the box. So loving, so awestruck. Christine could hardly believe that the angelic child was hers. As she made her way through the crowd, she stopped. No, Amariana was no longer hers. The girl was Erik's daughter; she herself had seen to that. Amariana was probably as much a part of the opera house as Erik or Madame Giry. She couldn't imagine trying to explain why she had given Amariana up.

Suddenly, she heard a beautiful song. Debussy, she realized, following the gorgeous sound. It pulled her heart forward, much as Erik's music had done. She followed the piano's call as if in a trance. The music still had a way of swaying her heart to its desire. She barely noticed where she was going as she followed the sweet melody that beckoned her. She opened a side panel and stepped into the large room silently. What she saw took her breath away.

The young girl sat playing the song to perfection, her dark brown hair falling just slightly passed her dark shoulder. Christine couldn't see the child's eyes as they were closed, but the child was humming as she played. Erik stood behind the girl, a slight smile curving his lips as he listened to the young girl play. Then it dawned on Christine. Her _**daughter**_ was playing Debussy! As brave as she was, the realization cause Christine to sway in her stance before everything went black.


	4. Worry of Past Ghosts

**Ello, my loves! Vixxy here with Chapter Four of Child's Blood. Finally, right? I know some of you are ready to kill me over this chapter. I promise Chapter Five will be much faster. Lol. In the meantime, enjoy this next installment and remember! REVIEWS = LOVE!  
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**Chapter Four – Worry of Past Ghosts**

**_-1883-_**  
"Madame! Madame! Madame, are you alright?" a child's voice seemed to ask, urgency in the gentle, soprano note of her voice. Christine opened her eyes slowly, groaning softly. A child was asking how she was? Blinking in the dimming light of the room, she realized it was the angelic girl she had once called her daughter. As she raised her hand to lay it on her forehead, the child seemed to relax. "Ah, there you are. You gave us quite a scare, milady."

"Where am I?" Christine asked.

"Madame Giry's room, of course." She said. "The managers extend their deepest apologies, Madame Chagny. They do hope you will return soon with the Viscount." The little dark haired child was exquisite as she bowed her head. Her pale skin was accented by the rich, satin emerald that clad her form. Her hair was tied half-back in a ponytail as she gave a small smile. "Are you well enough to walk, Madame?"

"I do believe so." Christine said softly. "Where did you come from, little one? I do not recall you from before."

"My mother gave me up when I was born. My father has raised me since then, with Madame Giry as my mother's replacement, so to speak." The girl spoke. "I stay hidden mostly, although I am taking lessons as a ballerina."

"Who is your father, young one?" Christine watched the girl's eyes become defensive and guarded as the question left her lips. She gave no reply on Christine's question as she stood and walked to the door.

"Madame Giry, the Viscountess has awoken." With a single glance backwards, the small girl was gone, and in the doorway was the ever-aging Madame Giry; mother to Christine's best friend.

"Ah, hello, my dear." The elderly woman said in the thick accent Christine had grown to love over the years.

Christine gave a nod in acknowledgment. "Madame Giry. It has been some time."

"Yes, nine year now. I have not seen you since you came to give your little girl to Erik." Madame Giry replied.

"Madame, will you tell me? Was that girl, the one in here just now…is she…?" Christine couldn't bear to say the words; _the girl I gave up_.

The older woman gave a gentle smile. "Indeed she is. Although I must say she does not look like her father." Christine kept her mouth shut as the elder spoke.

"Does she look like me?" Christine asked. She didn't think Amariana looked like her; more like her father, although Madame Giry said otherwise.

Madame Giry gave a small smile. "My child, I believe we should talk now; like we were unable to then."

_**-Meanwhile-**_

Raoul paced back and forth in the manager's office, while Firmin and Andre gave apology after apology to him. "She will be okay. Just answer me this. He doesn't lurk around, looking for her, does he?"

"Of course not, my lord." Firmin said. "We pay his salary and he stays well hidden. Tending to the little orphan girl Madame Giry found years ago."

"Orphan girl?" Raoul asked. "You let that man take care of a child?"

"No, we do not. I'm afraid Madame Giry would not let us send the girl to an orphanage. She claimed that the girl had taken a liking to the ghost and that he was very fatherly to her." Andre said simply. He adjusted his tie as he cleared his throat, obviously not willing to cover the subject. As if to lighten the mood, a knock reverberated throughout the room. "Come in." he said confidently.

"Good evening, sirs. I have come to inform you that Madame de Chagny has awoken." The little girl spoke up as she poked her head in. "I must apologize for causing her to faint, Viscount." She said, stepping in and bowing. "Madame Giry is making sure she is in good enough shape to walk, and she will be in shortly." She said, smiling.

Raoul stared, dumbfounded at how beautiful the girl was. She looked…strangely like someone he knew…but who? "It is quite alright, my child. Christine has taken to fainting easily under stress or shock since she lost her child."

"Oh? Then I am deeply sorry. Even more so now." She gave a curtsy and smiled. "I should be going back to help the girls now. Do take care, my lord." This said, the little girl scampered out of the room. The door's latch clicked and Raoul turned to face the managers.

"She is the orphan girl the ghost has raised?" he inquired, gaining matching nods. "He really has done well, considering how he once was."

"It amazed us as well." Andre said, giving a faint smile. "But she really is a grand child. She helps out with almost everything, almost. Some of the dancers watch carefully when she's around, wondering if the ghost will show his face."

"I suppose he would be protective of her." Raoul said. "If she has warmed him to the point of tending to her like a father." He glanced up as the door opened and he rushed to embrace the former Opera star as Christine stepped inside. "Are you okay, Christine?"

"Oui, Monsieur. Christine is well. She just needed a rest." Madame Giry explained as she walked in behind the brunette. "How are you, sir?"

"Well, Madame Giry. Thank you for taking care of my Christine." Raoul said. "Andre and Firmin have told me that you took in an orphan that your friend the opera ghost has taken under his wing."

Madame Giry gave a nod. "Yes, I took in a young girl. But the opera ghost has changed much since the accident so long ago. She took a great liking to him when she arrived here. And he became very doting and attentive to her every need while I was helping during rehearsals, so it was natural to allow her to stay. Although our managers seem to disagree with my choice, it is not their place; they are without children, as you know."

"I agree. But she was just in and she is a wonderful child, Madame Giry. Now, if you'll excuse us. Christine and I must return home." Raoul said, nodding once and smiling. The elder stepped aside as the Chagny couple left the room. As the door closed and the couple's footsteps faded down the hall, the woman turned sharply and glared at the young men.

"It is not in your place to explain the goings-on of this opera house. Amariana's well being is not to be discussed with Raoul de Chagny. He is no longer patron, therefore he has no business meddling in my own."

"But Madame, Amariana is a mere child and you have left her in the care of a mad man."

"He is not a mad man. No longer. Both of you are well aware of this, are you not? Amariana changed him. If you truly wish for your careers to be ruined, tamper in Amariana's care again." Madame Giry said. "The opera ghost will burn this place down with you in it if you are not careful. Amariana is like his daughter. And he is her father in every way that counts. Destroy their happiness and you destroy yourselves. And that is no threat, monsieurs. That is a deep promise. Good evening, gentlemen." She left the room, making sure to slam the door. She looked down the hall, where a familiar face stood; clad in black, holding the hand of the very perturbed appearing Amariana.

"They told him of me, Madame." Amariana said.

"I am aware, young one." Madame Giry said. "No worries, I have warned them. Should they tamper in your care, feel free to toy with them."

"You have grown exceedingly devious, Madame." Erik spoke softly, his voice still strong and confident.

"After the conversation I had with young Christine, I am entitled to be so. Firmin and Andre have no say in your daughter's care."

"Father may not be my birthfather, but he is still my guardian angel." Amariana said. "I know many ways to ruin the managers should they tamper with me again." Blue-hazel eyes narrowed as she glared at the door. "If it is okay, I will retire to my room."

"I will tuck you in," Erik said, gaining a smile from his daughter. He gave a nod to the elder woman and led Amariana into the shadows; towards their room beneath the Opera Populaire.


	5. The Child She Cared For

Ello all! I know it has been some time since I posted, and I apologize. Some things came up and I fell behind. Dx This chapter is a bit shorter than the last, but I enjoyed writing it. I do hope you guys enjoy it. Never forget: Reviews = Love!

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_**Chapter Five – The Child She Cared For**_

Christine walked down the corridor towards the doors of Opera Populaire and paused at the arched doorway. She turned, her dress swaying as she did so, to look around one last time. Her eyes caught sight of a shadow standing in a darkened balcony and she paused long enough to blink, only to see the little figure was gone. Wondering what had caused her to give Amariana when there was another…she shook her head and followed Raoul as they neared the coach. Climbing in, she laid her hands on the skirt and stared out the window as they travelled.

"Christine, have you heard a word I've said?" Raoul asked, causing the former opera star to look at him.

"What?"

"I asked if you had seen the little girl with Madame Giry." He repeated. "The one in the little satin like emerald gown."

"Yes. She is a beauty, isn't she?" Christine said. "Who is she?"

"According to Firmin and Andre, the girl is adopted by Madame Giry and our old friend the opera ghost." Raoul explained. "Madame Giry found her in the streets and brought her from the cold. The ghost took a liking to her, and her to him. Foolish child, if you think of it."

"How is loving someone who never knew love foolish, Raoul?" Christine asked, turning her head to look out the window. _'How could it be foolish to let her love him in my place…?'_ she thought as they began making their way down the road to the De Chagny manor. As they stopped at the front of the building, Raoul moved to open the door and held out his hand for his wife to take it. She kept her head down, hiding the traitorous tears as she moved to enter the manor. As soon as the door closed behind the couple, the sound of running feet caught Christine's ear as a cheerful little voice called out.

"Mama! Papa! Home, home!" the little girl bounded down the stairwell and ran at Christine, wrapping her arms at the woman's legs. "Bed, bed!"

"Evelina, hello. Why aren't you in bed, love?"

"Mama!" the little child said, no more than two or three years old. Christine chuckled as she bent over ot pick the girl up, Amariana's little sister by almost 5 years. Christine realized that Amariana had to be about 8 now. Maybe younger, but it seemed almost strange to think of a child she had never seen grow. She looked at the girl she had kept, and smiled.

"Alright, my darling. I shall tuck you in and read to you." She explained. "But we must hurry, before the sandman comes to make you sleep." She laughed as the girl squealed and hopped down, rushing up the stairs to her room of lavish pillows and velvet comforters. Christine followed the child with her eyes and looked at Raoul. "I will be there as soon as Evelinna is tucked in." she promised and started after the girl. With each step, she wondered more about Amariana. How had she grown up? In the dormitory for the ballerinas? Or perhaps in the catacombs of the opera house, with Erik taking her to the stairs that led above ground? Had she known the luxury of plush bedding and a canopy covered bed, as her younger sister had been indulged in since birth? Each thought made Christine want to cry, for while she loved Amariana, it had been right to give the girl to Erik. It was what needed to happen, so that Erik could move past the betrayal Christine had caused him. But still…it begged to be wondered. What would Amariana say if she knew Christine was her mother, the woman who had practically abandoned her? Christine felt a tear roll from her eye and wiped it away as she neared her daughter's door. Knocking, she turned the knob and leaned in. "Are you ready, Evelina?"

"Story! Story!" Evelina said as she sat on her bed, bouncing in one place.

With a smile, the Viscountess de Chagny slipped inside to read to the child and tuck her in.

_**-Meanwhile-**_

Amariana sighed as she ran her brush through her hair. Hidden among the catacombs beneath the opera house, Erik had created a room for Amariana that was adjacent to the grand piano and organ her father was so fond of. Her room, curtained off by a deep navy curtain with silver trim, held a large bed, in the shape of a peacock, covered in quilts and soft sheets. Amariana's current position, which was in front of her mahogany and gold vanity, was a few feet from the bed. She smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror. Long ebony hair accented the crystalline eyes of blue she had. Her skin was pale, but not deathly so, and she was a bit small for her age; seeming only five or six when in reality she was eight. She began humming softly, her voice a gentle soprano as she got up and twirled over to her bed. As soon as she had moved to lay back, the curtain was pulled open by a hand and Erik stepped into view. "Something the matter, father?" she asked.

"You seem a bit darker than usual tonight, my dear," Erik said. When it came to his little daughter, Erik tended to be quite a bit gentler than his demeanor toward the opera house servants. "I am worried that perhaps something is the matter with you?"

Amariana sat up. "I suppose that is true. Not only did I see my mother, talk with her, but the managers put their snobby noses in my business and told an outsider of my existence." She explained. "I do not know which is worst; the managers or her."

"Now Amariana," Erik scolded softly as he walked over to sit beside the girl and pull her to him. "Even though she walked away from you, she still loved you. She gave you to me because she knew the music in your soul was far too great to handle." He explained, kissing the child's head. "If not for you, my sweet child, I would have burned this place down many a year ago to ruin the lives of the managers who ruined my beloved opera house." He continued. "Now then, you must rest. The evening bells are beginning to ring." He said. He leaned in to kiss Amariana's head again and stood, tucking her in and humming softly.

"Play me a lullaby, father." The girl said. "A sweet lullaby."

Erik gave a chuckle. "For you, my dear, anything." He said. He stepped through the curtain and closed it, walking to the piano and beginning to play a gentle song that echoed deep in the catacombs. It was the lullaby he played the child often; a solo her mother had performed years ago, back when her mother's husband had first become a part of the inner workings of the Opera Populaire. He played it through its entirety and when he finally stopped, he checked on the girl and went to his desk. Taking a sheet of paper and a feather, he began to write a letter, quite lengthy compared to his usual writings. But he felt it had to be done, to perhaps ease the suffering he and the child felt. It didn't matter if he ever sent to letter or not, as long as it was written. And when the paper was folded and tucked away, he stood and retired for the evening himself.


End file.
